


Let Me Feel Your Heartbeat

by everywhere



Series: I'd Like For You And I To Go Romancing [2]
Category: Queen (Band)
Genre: Comfort, Cuddles, M/M, Maylor - Freeform, Morning After, Soft Boys, a lot of implied sex, angst if you squint, mentions of deacury
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-21
Updated: 2019-05-21
Packaged: 2020-02-28 11:07:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,571
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18755233
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/everywhere/pseuds/everywhere
Summary: The aftermath of a rather heavy night with two cuddly boys.Title taken from "Good Old Fashioned Lover Boy"





	Let Me Feel Your Heartbeat

**Author's Note:**

> This is a sequel to my work called "Be Your Valentino (Just For You)", but it is not going to not make sense if you don't read that.

Brian wakes up before Roger, unsurprinsingly.  
He felt his presence beside him, the not-quite 4-star hotel mattress dipping at his weight. As he woke up, he became more and more aware of just how _close_ he was to Roger, taking in the warmth of his arm draped over his stomach, the softness of his tangled hair underneath his arm. He was curled up under him, his head just slightly on his ribcage and his legs intertwined with Brian's. His presence was not so much beside him, he noticed. Brian tried to keep as still as he could, not wanting to wake the sleeping angel.  
The drummer looked so peaceful in his sleep. His long eyelashes rested on high cheekbones, back moving with his deep breathing, sunlight from the window reflecting in his golden hair. His pale skin was covered from head to toe- from red scratches up his back, to blue bruises on his thighs and hips, up to the purple spots along his neck and jawline. It was a beautiful sight. The thought that Brian had put those there made him blush slightly, his mind overcome with memories from the night before. He couldn't help but lifting his hand, noticing the light bruises on his wrist, and stroking Roger's hair slowly. 

Roger was a deep sleeper. He didn't even stir when Brian had laced his fingers in his hair. He just smiled sweetly in his sleep and stayed put. Which was fine, Brian could've stayed like this forever. In his time looking down at the sleeping man, Brian had also noticed that the spots that covered Roger's body were not absent from his. Bruises that matched fingerprints dotted his hipbones, teeth marks lay at his thighs and stomach. God, this was going to be embarrasing to explain to John and Freddie (although they were most likely in a similar situation). He let his mind wander, however it didn't stray too far, as he stroked the blonde's hair. It felt nice knowing they could be like this for as long as they wanted.  
Brian must have fallen half back into sleep, because a short while later he was woken from his trance by a pair of warm lips on his. He kissed him back slowly, lazily. When he felt Roger's lips leave his, he didn't open his eyes, but he felt a warmth on his forehead that could only be the other man's.  
"Good morning." Roger sighed, climbing on top of Brian's body.  
"Hi." He sighed, wrapping his arms around his little body. He tried leaning in to kiss him again, but with his eyes still closed with sleep it was a difficult agenda. When they finally met, he was aware that Roger was smiling one of his genuine smiles, his lips tensioned against his teeth as he tried to kiss him. Their lips moved together for what felt like forever, intertwining in warmth and passion and affection. The affection still tripped him up. This feeling was quite possibly the best he'd ever felt- the weight of Roger on top of him, the warmth of their lips, knowing they had nothing else planned for the day.  
He was so sleepy he barely noticed when Roger pulled away and lay his head on his chest. This time, he opened his eyes. A smile cracked at the corners of his lips as he saw the blonde looking back up at him, his blue eyes hazy with sleep and lips swollen from the night before. 

Looking up at the dazed man was like a dream. Brian's curly hair was strewn messily around him on the pillow, bones bruised and bitten and hazel eyes full of something Roger had never seen before. He didn't think he'd ever get over how beautiful he was.  
"God, I can't stop kissing you." He laughed, reaching back up and planting kisses all over his face before landing on his lips again.  
"I don't mind." Brian responded, nuzzling his nose against Roger's. Why did he not mind this time? All the other times were so different, they'd just kissed or even made out, but never spoke of it afterwards. That was a brain puzzle for later Brian to solve, right now he was rather focused on lazily kissing the man above him: who was rather adamant about leaving Brian's lips and placing pecks on the other parts of his face. He'd never seen Roger like this before, so openly affectionate and playful. It was adorable to think that their badass drummer could be as cute and playful as this. However, he was soon reminded that it was _still Roger_ by a nip at his ear and him returning to Brian's lips, biting them too and licking where he'd just bitten. Brian moaned softly, letting him take over and do whatever he wanted.  
Roger slid his hands into Brian's curls, knotting them further into each other. You'd never know where one ended and the other started. With a final nibble on his bottom lip, Roger was finished kissing him. He let go and stared into his eyes, twirling his hair around his fingers.  
"Hey Bri," he finally asked, Brian smiling up at him, “Do you mind that we’re still naked?”  
Brian responded by reaching out and lacing his fingers into Roger's and smiling softly at him.  
"No, not particularly," Brian pecked his nose. "Especially considering I remember how it happened." And they were kissing again. No matter how many times it happened, Roger would always be astounded by the warmth and affection that met him. Brian's lips felt so soft against his, the stubble that meant touring had left him with no spare time rough against his skin. Underneath him, he shifted his weight in an obvious attempt to sit up- which left Roger in a weird, dependent position that meant if he was to let go he'd just slide awkwardly down Brian's body.  
Which he decided was, after a considerable time spent clutching desperately to the curly haired man's neck, a great idea. He loosened his grip and let himself slide down, coming to a really quite uncomfortable rest on Brian's stomach. With his head on his belly, Roger was able to feel him laughing. Soon, the drummer joined him laughing and the pair were a mess. 

Anyone looking in from the outside would've assumed they were a happy couple. With Brian awkwardly sitting against the headboard, Roger's head on his stomach and the two in hysterical fits of laughter. After a short while, Roger propped himself up on his elbows and looked at Brian.  
"You hungry?" He asked, shimmying off of the bed and putting his boxers on. Relaxing back on the bed, Brian pouted at him.  
"No. I want you back here though." He whined, reaching his arms out to Roger. He only looked back at him and laughed, going over to quickly kiss him.  
"You're gonna have to be, mate. I'm ravenous."  
"I really don't think you should call me that after last night, Rog." Brian teased.  
"I do what I bloody well please." He stated, crossing his arms at him.  
"Oh, I know." Brian hooked his leg around Roger's back, pulling him in again. Roger didn't really resist. When he was close enough, Brian wrapped his arms around him and pulled him down on top of him again. The blonde groaned, but was only so happy to kiss Brian again. He felt Brian's long fingers brushing over his skin, his soft lips against his as he entwined himself with Roger in every way possible. Roger couldn't decide whether he wanted breakfast or Brian. His stomach said breakfast, while his brain told him to keep kissing the tall man below him. For now, Brian was his choice. He rolled them over so that he was lying underneath him, curly hair making a curtain around their faces.  
The guitarist clearly did _not_ want to get up. Roger felt him fiddling with something and then realised he had pulled the blanket back over them. Enclosed by the warmth of the blanket and Brian's kisses, Roger nearly forgot his hunger. His mouth against the other man's was enough for now. 

And they lay there, wrapped in blankets and heat and affection and _each other_ , it was like this was the only thing that mattered. Until Roger's stomach rudely announced that he needed to get up and have food, earning a laugh from Brian.  
"But I don't want you to go!" Brian protested. He still had his arms around Roger and was practically draped over him like a shawl.  
Roger pet his stomach. "You heard the man," he joked, "I've gotta eat." A groan of defeat.  
"Fine." The guitarist put his boxers back on from the night before and trudged to the kitchen with him. In the filtered sunlight, Roger's skin glowed and his body was just as gorgeous as it was lit up by stage lights. He was so little in comparison to Brian, his thin body still awfully muscular. They were really quite opposite- Brian, who was long and lanky, against Roger, who was short and muscular. Behind him, it was much easier to see the marks that littered the pale skin.  
" _Rog, you're covered_." Brian whispered, both remarking at his handiwork and worried about them both leaving the room for the next week.  
"I don't mind," He replied, then gestured at Brian. "You are too, by the way." The older just furrowed his brow and sat at the tiny table near the kitchen.  
"You're not hungry?" Roger bent down to source some hotel-supplied museli. Brian was otherwise focused. On Roger's ass. He couldn't take his eyes off him, watching as he danced around the tiny kitchen getting cereal supplies, humming as he went. Brian could listen to him all day.  
It wasn't his first time seeing the drummer nearly naked- but it was the first time he'd seen him in the light of the night before. Roger rudely interupted his thoughts.  
"Bri?"  
"Oh, no. Not really." The blonde sat down opposite him and plowed into the muesli. Brian raised his eyebrows at the ferociousness Roger ate with.  
"Sorry, I get really hungry after sex." Brian went bright red and Roger laughed at him.  
"You prude." He teased, shoving more cereal in his face.  
"I am not a prude!" Brian scoffed, staring out the window so he didn't have to look at Roger, whose face was covered in disbelief. "I gave you a fucking handjob, Rog. I'm not a prude."  
"Oh, case closed then." Roger said, getting up to put his bowl in the sink. God, Roger could be a pain in the ass. 

The next thing Roger knew he was being pushed against the rough hotel wall and getting kissed hard. Much harder than he was used to Brian kissing him. He'd never kissed him standing up before- at least, not that he could remember. It was comforting to have to lean up, to stand on his toes to kiss him. Brian had his long body fully pressed against him, pushing them both into the wall. Roger managed to free himself.  
"Bri, as much as I'm enjoying this, I don't have the energy."  
"Oh, who's the prude now?" Brian joked. Roger could tell he'd struck a nerve though, with the way the guitarist was so defensive about it. That didn't stop him from making fun of him.  
"No, still you." He turned and walked down the hall, ready to get back into bed. Brian never knew the man got so _soft _. He followed him, slightly in awe of this unseen behaviour.__

But none of the teasing mattered when they were both lying back in the bed, the blankets hugging them and Brian's head on Roger's chest, the latter stroking the curly hair in front of him- both staring up at the ceiling.  
It was peaceful. They were breathing together. Roger's leg was bent _just so_ their legs were intertwined.  
"I love your hair." The blonde sighed.   
"I know you do." Brian responded, nudging his head into Roger's hand. "I love your voice." He added.  
"I know you do." Roger mimicked. A moment passed and Brian rolled over, leaning his hands on Roger's chest and cradling his head with them. He smiled big up at him.  
"You're so gorgeous. Do you know that?" The guitarist asked, sliding closer to Roger's face.  
"I have been told, yes." He joked, his cheeks going so slightly red. _'But never with so much affection'_ he thought, smiling, close-mouthed, back at Brian.  
"I'm serious, Roger," Brian kissed him lightly on the lips. "I love your mouth," He kissed his hairline. "I love your hair," He kissed his cheekbone. "Your cheeks," Roger squirmed under him but he kept going, kissed his closed eyelids. "Your eyes," Kissed his jaw. "Your jawline," Kissed his bruised collarbone. "Your neck." He could feel Roger melting, face growing hotter. But still, refused to stop- he kissed his sternum. "Your chest," His bicep. "Your arms," His stomach, "Your tummy." Brian brought his mouth back up to Roger's.  
"You're fucking _beautiful_ , Roger Taylor." He whispered against the warm lips. How on earth was Roger meant to respond to that? His cheeks were practically burning and his whole chest felt warm, elated.  
"You're not so bad yourself. Sure, you're a little long, but it'll do." He hummed, pressing his lips against Brian's, unmoving.  
"You asshole."  
"I know," he sighed. "I'm your asshole though." Brian chuckled, scratching his nails along Roger's scalp. The drummer groaned, wrapping his arms around Brian's back.  
"What is with your fascination with hair?" Brian asked, not stopping- which elicited more quiet moans from Roger. It really was an odd fascination.  
"I just- I don't know, actually." His voice was soft, low. "I've just always loved it. It feels so nice." He explained. Brian pressed his forehead against Roger's.  
"That's cute." Brian said simply. 

And they could've stayed that way forever. With Brian's long fingers tangled through Roger's hair, their foreheads pressing together and their mouths so close- close enough that they could feel any tiny movements the other made but they weren't touching. Both so tired they could barely keep their eyes open, Brian let his face fall so he was lying on top of Roger with his face buried in his blonde hair. He felt Roger's breath hitch.  
"What are we gonna do with this?" Roger blurted, speech rushed. It was as if something had popped, their tiny bubble of warmth and affection was suddenly gone. _What were they going to do?_.  
"I don't know, Rog." Brian sighed. Suddenly the proximity was awkward. The feel of Brian's curls tickling his chin, Roger's hands spread over his back was alien and _wrong_. Brian sat up, crossing his legs right next to Roger. They sat there, all heavy breathing and uncertainty, Brian's knee barely touching Roger's chest.  
"Dammit Bri, get back here. I'm cold." Brian cocked an eyebrow at the odd comment.  
"I thought you just had a crisis?"  
"Yes, but now I'm cold and you're warm, so..." Brian laughed, but remained still. He wasn't sure whether Roger really wanted it. But, Roger groaned and crawled into the crossed legs, wrapping his legs around Brian's waist.  
"I don't care what we do." Roger said, resting his head on Brian's shoulder.  
"For now, though," Brian snaked his arms around Roger's back, "I think you should kiss me again."

And he did.


End file.
